I did it! The Wine Century Club is finished!

Readers, I have done it: After nine months of research, agonizing, and concerted, dedicated wine drinking, I have finished my Wine Century Club challenge! Wine varietal 100 was a delicious, aromatic, grassy bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, the varietal I'd been saving for last, consumed at home after a particularly not-so-awesome day.

The final bottle

The final glass

So, here are some things I learned during my quest:

1) This one's obvious, but there are some truly good off-the-beaten-path wine varietals out there. Take Goldmuskateller, a grape I'd never have tried if it weren't for the WCC; it's intensely flavorful, fruity, vibrant, and food-friendly. I learned I really like Malbec, my new go-to red wine. And albarino is a new summer favorite. And this was the point, of course: break myself out of my comfort zone so I don't ALWAYS go for the sauvignon blanc when faced with a wine list. That said...

2) I still really like sauvignon blanc. Man, it's delicious.

3) Finding obscure varietals is not easy, especially when you're largely confined to by-the-glass menus and under-$15 racks at the liquor store. Most of the by-the-glass menus around this city have the same usual suspects: pinot grigio, chardonnay, merlot, pinot noir, cabernet sauvignon, etc. etc. It's probably because most wine drinkers aren't that educated (me included) and therefore aren't that adventurous; unknown varietals scare them off. But sheesh, guys, it gets boring! How bout an erbaluce every now and then?

4) Since finding obscure varietals isn't easy, doing the Wine Century Club takes a LOT of research. And by research I mean countless hours on the Internet, spending quality time with restaurant wine lists and Googling the lesser-known wines, or standing in the aisles of a wine store, doing the same on my pathetic Blackberry browser. Some grapes have two names but are the same varietal! Some areas of the world don't put grapes on their wine labels, making the search that much more difficult! I'm talking HOURS here, people. By far and away, that is the aspect of this quest I will miss the least. It's positively freeing to be able to walk into a restaurant and just order a glass of wine that you want, just because. Or, you know, a cocktail!

5) And sometimes I just wanted some sparkling wine, but after the 10th varietal or so, I'd already tried every varietal that goes into typical sparkling wines. And so I gave up bubbly for the last, say, five months. I miss it. And I'm dusting off my champagne flutes as we speak.

5) But that said, if you like wine-- even if you know nothing about it, or next to nothing, like me-- the Wine Century Club is worth doing. It's an easy, painless, dare I say largely FUN way to learn a little bit more about wine and expand your palate in the meantime. If you're interested, check out the official site here.

In the meantime, I have a glass of sauvignon blanc waiting for me...

Nearing the Wine Century at Lupa

Last Tuesday was the designated Fancy Meal Night during my dad's vacation. To nobody's surprise, I was given free rein to pick the restaurant and precious few instructions beyond "Tuesday." After a quick perusal of OpenTable, I hit upon an odd but somehow spot-on choice: Lupa.

Yes, Lupa is highly acclaimed and known as one of Mario Batali's best, but for some reason I'd never been there. So on a slightly chilly and blustery Tuesday evening, I met Dad at the Spring Street subway stop and we headed to Lupa.

It's a cute little place, charmingly rustic and highly crowded, with throngs of after-workers crowding the front bar. If you mind being packed in next to your fellow diners, don't go here. But if you can get past that, you'll likely have a surprisingly enjoyable-- and surprisingly reasonable, given what it is-- meal.

Our server, it's worth noting, was incredibly friendly and accommodating, even getting into the spirit when I presented her with my Wine Century Club challenge. See, at that point I was 97 wines in, and given my limited knowledge of Italian wines, I basically posed the challenge for her to find some varietals I hadn't tried within their by-the-glass menu. Magic: a glass of Frascati Superiore (white) and a red with nebbiolo, and I was magically at the 99 wine threshold. (Stay tuned...)

98...

99...

What better to sop up all that wine than their focaccia, eh? Two conjoined pieces of pillowy, oil-soaked bread, spotted with rosemary on the crust. This fairly begged for a sprinkling of coarse salt to bring out the flavors, but even without it, it was some gooooood carbin'.

Mmmhmmm.

To start, Dad had the misticanza salad, which he prounced good for what it was, a mix of slightly bitter upscale lettuces and some fennel to round out the mix.

I'm clearly still getting used to this camera

I chose the broccoli rabe with ricotta verdure, an ample tangle of the veggie slicked with creamy ricotta. Surprisingly, the overwhelming flavor of this dish was lemon: there were bits of lemon rind hidden in the mixture, and it gave an otherwise potentially heavy dish a truly light flavor. I wish there had been some more punch in the ricotta (perhaps a bit of ricotta salata thrown in?), but overall, this was quite enjoyable.

Quite pretty, actually

And then the mains. Dad went for a daily special, pappardelle with pork ragu. In typical Italian fashion, it was a small portion, but Dad raved about the taste and quality.

Homely but tasty

My choice was the escarole, walnut, red onion, and pecorino salad, sans red onion. This turned out to be a light and almost refreshing salad, with the bed of shaved pecorino adding a salty bite to the crunchy greens.

Lots of shades of white

And all this, of course, was a mere prelude to dessert. Though there are choices on the dessert menu, look around the dining room and you'll see nearly every table chooses one thing only: the signature Lupa tartufo. It looks innocent enough, but it packs a true wallop. A thick, yielding chocolate shell-- not shatter-hard but almost the texture of milk chocolate-- gives way to pure, intense hazelnut gelato. A shower of hazelnuts crowns the orb, and the baseball-sized confection sits in a pool of hazelnut-studded chocolate sauce. Push through to the center of the tartufo and you'll find a brandied cherry amid a protective case of what seems like chocolate cake (or maybe a bit of brownie?). No matter-- it all disappears in the work of a couple bites.

Oh. Yum.

Lupa was a pleasant surprise. The prices are reasonable, the service friendly and laid-back, and the food (ahem, dessert, ahem) worth returning for. It's the perfect place for a classy meal when you don't feel like going through the classy-meal rigamarole. Go. You'll enjoy it. And isn't that what it's all about?

Lupa
170 Thompson Street, near W. Houston
212-982-5089

Excitement to come

A bit of silence on my part this week, I know, but lots of posts to come. And for a taste of what's on tap, hear this:

In my wine century club question, I am currently at... drumroll please... NINETY-NINE wines! That means one more wine (and I've been saving a good one, promise me) and I'm done, done done! Stay tuned...

Klee saves the day

Last week, the lovely DA and I made plans to convene at the Little Cheese Pub in Chelsea. I was really excited-- it was a new place, and the menu looked delicious. I got there first and took a seat at one of their ingenious swing-out seats at a communal table. I procured a menu and began to peruse... when I was unpleasantly accosted by a notice screaming "We do not currently serve alcohol." Ummm... really? According to the website, there was an extensive beer and wine list, and perhaps not surprisingly, that's why I'd chosen the LCP for our drinks date. Apparently, they'd gotten their liquor license but didn't have the necessary piece of paper yet-- so BYOB it was. Now, this is all perfectly fine, but don't you think they should have posted that fact... somewhere? Anywhere aside from buried in the middle of the menu? Like, maybe, online? Or at the door? Anyway, when DA arrived, I informed him of the sad situation, and we headed back out into the frigid night in search of, well, booze.

Given the ~20-degree temperature, we needed someplace nearby. Quickly. So on a gametime decision, we decided to check out Klee, which is located around the corner from the LCP and is owned by the same chef, Daniel Angerer. We burst into the quiet, serene dining room and gratefully took seats at the small but entirely adequate bar.

A good 15 minutes of wrangling with the menu for the purposes of the Wine Century Club later, we had a couple drinks and had placed a food order. I had ordered a glass of "Rosso, Gerbino, Di Giovanno" (check Nero D'Avola off my WCC list, thank you very much), which I'd say was just ah-kay. The alcohol burn in this wine was hot and almost overwhelming, although after a bit of time in the glass it opened up and mellowed a bit. DA noted that his glass of Primitivo, the special red of the night, was also decent but not memorable.

My wine (check out the cool coaster!)

DA's wine. Looks eerily similar.

But the food! We had ordered a cheese plate, and after once again struggling to decide among the five cheese options, we went with a Pecorino Tartufo, a Green Hill, and a classic Appenzeller. And while it was a bit pricey at $13, this was a damn good cheese plate. First of all, Klee gives you a truly generous portion of each cheese, particularly the Pecorino and Appenzelelr. There was enough cheese that both of us (or maybe just me?) were reaching cheese overload by the end of the plate. And the cheeses themselves were top quality-- we both loved the Pecorino for its soft texture and assertive truffley bite. The Green Hill was super creamy and mild, and the Appenzeller tasted just like diving into a fondue pot. The dark honey accompaniment was interesting, but the stewed figs were pretty average-- in fact, our only gripe was that the accompaniments could have been a bit better or more creative (and there could have been more-- I mean, three half-figs for two people?).

Left to right, Appenzeller, Pecorino, Green Hill

Raisin bread and toasted rye for the smearin'

We spent almost two hours sipping wine, eating cheese, and just talking. It was, in a word, delightful. And Klee was so peaceful and warm, with laid-back but welcoming service-- I'd definitely come back to try a "real" meal down the line.

Klee Brasserie
200 Ninth Avenue, between 22nd and 23rd Streets
212-633-8033

Cana: A wine bar in an Escher painting

Cana Wine Bar recently opened in the Limelight Marketplace, everyone's favorite church-turned-nightclub-turned-upscale-trinket-marketplace. I've written about the bizarro world inside the Limelight before, but what better way to enhance the experience of being inside an Escher painting than to drink some wine? No better way, that's what. (Huh?) Anyway, after work last week, I suggested my old friend AS and I meet up at the newly-debuted Cana for a tipple and a nibble. And so we did.

Cana is situated on one of the Limelight's many landings, and rather than having its own enclosed space, it's kind of just out there on the platform. There are tables lined up against the internal railings overlooking the marketplace's ground floor, and there's a small bar tucked under the overhang of the next floor above us.

The menu is both pretty substantial and relatively reasonably priced (N.B.: Don't go by what's up on the website; the actual menu, particularly the wines by the glass, differs considerably). AS chose a glass of Pinot Noir; I went with a glass of Montepulciano, which was rich and ruby-toned and delicious. And for all those counting, I am now up to EIGHTY-ONE varietals on my Wine Century Club quest! Nineteen wines to go...

Montepulciano

And pinot

I also ordered a dish of their cocktail olives, which goes for a very reasonable $5. A large plate of chile-spiked olives is surprisingly accompanied by a plate of "crostini," thick slices of warm white toast with shards of parmesan bruleed on top sporting humorously long skewers, for some reason. (Do people often have trouble picking up pieces of toast with their hands?) The olives were salty and succulent, and the toast was a nice extra gesture-- and warm and tasty, to boot.

Olives! And toast!

Our overall experience with Cana was quite positive. It's not exactly your cozy, intimate, candlelit neighborhood wine bar, but it's actually a really nice place to grab a drink, albeit in a frenetic, blindingly white, and techno-pumping atmosphere. If you happen to find yourself in the somewhat in-between neighborhood of 6th Avenue and the low 20s, stop on in and have a drink. At the very least, it'll give you some liquid courage to tackle the rest of the marketplace.

Cana Wine Bar
Inside the Limelight Marketplace
656 Avenue of the Americas, between 20th and 21st Street

Wine and cheese and cupcakes (?) at Wine 30

Thanks to the glories of winter break, my friend SC is back in town, and I was able to glory in her presence early this week with a wine and food fest at Wine 30. We escaped the blustery cold in the warm, dimly lit, and pleasantly chatter-filled room in Murray Hill and were quickly plied with wine-- for the lady, a glass of pinot noir; for me, a glass of a delicious Super Tuscan that surprised me with its lusciousness.

Super!

We also ordered some food, of course, to have something to do between sips. SC ordered two small plates: first a beets/walnuts/goat cheese crostini, which provided two hearty toast planks for $6. She augmented the crostini with a butternut squash salad (butter lettuce, pickled red onions, roasted pumpkin seeds, balsamic, $9). Upon SC's proclamation that the salad was delicious, the table next to us ordered it as well.

Pretty crostini

Homely but delicious

My choice was a cheese. After a bit of debate with the server, I chose the "kunik," a goat's cheese that's described on the menu as "buttery, unctuous, silky, tangy, musky." The first bite was almost overwhelmingly funky, but the accompaniments-- walnut-raisin bread, apricot marmalade, slivers of dried fig-- tamed down the funk to make the cheese simply pleasantly creamy. I wouldn't necessarily order this cheese again, but it was interesting to try once.

Lots of accompanying bread

Wedge o' cheese

SC closed out the meal with one of their special desserts: red velvet cupcakes. There were four tiny mini cupcakes to an order, and while I can't comment on the presentation of the frosting, SC said the cupcakes themselves were quite good. As a nondenominational cupcake supporter, I was glad on her behalf.

Little dollops

And so we ate our food and drank our wine, and we were not hurried in the slightest when presented with our bill. While Wine 30 is certainly not cheap, it errs just on the side of not-a-ripoff. Prices are just a dollar or two higher than they should be, and portions are just an ounce or two smaller than they should be, but it's not egregious enough to prevent a return a visit. And in fact, the food was delicious, the wine tasty, the atmosphere welcoming, and the company superb. What more could you ask for in a wine bar?

Wine 30
41 E. 30th Street, between Madison and Park Avenue South
212-481-0197

Proof: My DC home away from home

I was in DC for work a couple of weeks ago, and having fond memories of Proof from my last visit, I decided to head back. I'll say up front: Proof was even better this time around, so good that I ended up there for dinner two out of my three nights in the city.

First off, the atmosphere is almost insanely welcoming. It's artfully lit, with cozy booths and spacious tables; wine bottles line a floor-to-ceiling room divider; there's a bar area in one corner; and the far corner, near the kitchen, houses a quiet little cheese counter, with a cheesemonger (?) methodically portioning enormous wedges of cheese into cheese-plate-sized hunks.

Oh, and the service-- it's spot-on. My waiter the first night came over to welcome me back the second night I was there, even though my table was not in his jurisdiction. Service is solicitous without being overwhelming; it's knowledgeable and friendly but not intrusive.

Proof is a wine bar, so of course there's wine. A decent selection of wines by the glass includes some unusual varietals (great for my Wine Century Club!) and offers three different sizes: half-glass, full glass, and quartino, all at reasonable prices. During my two visits, I tried a Furmint from Hungary and a Zierflander from Austria, both of which were crisp, delicious, and food-friendly.

Furmint

Zierflander

Ah, the food. Unlike at a lot of wine bars, the food here isn't an afterthought; there's a full menu, with lots of space devoted to charcouterie and cheeses, yes, but also an ample selection of salads, appetizers, and entrees.

On both my visits, I started with the olives. These are meaty, salty, substantial orbs in a delicious brine flecked with citrus zest and a touch of crushed red pepper. Since the olives are so large, one order is actually a decently-filling appetizer.

Very carefully plated

There's also a bread course of sorts, which is admittedly not Proof's strong point. While the dip-- Greek yogurt with mint, chives, and olive oil-- is addictive and spoon-worthy, the bread is flat, hard, unsalted, and largely flavorless. I understand why this might make a logical bland cracker for a pungent cheese course, but as a stand-alone bread it just doesn't quite work.

Quantity, not quality

But back to the good stuff. I tried two salads during my visit. First: maple-roasted delicata squash with arugula, pecorino, pumpkin seeds, and cider vinaigrette. This was a tasty and pretty hearty salad, with tender squash and some good crunch from the pumpkin seeds. I wished the pecorino had been portioned a bit thicker; as it was, it was so paper-thin it almost melted into the squash and didn't quite get a chance to assert its salty flavor. But overall, this was a good expression of fall on a plate.

Not too sweet

The second night I chose the roasted beets with pea shoots, kaleidoscope carrots, aged goat cheese, toasted hazelnuts, and sherry mustard vinaigrette (which I'd gotten before). This salad was a really ample portion-- I was unable to finish both this and a full order of olives. The beets were sweet rubies, contrasting nicely with the peppery bite of the pea shoots. I had only two half-carrots in this salad, which was fine with me, since despite being "kaleidoscope" they tasted like normal carrots. The healthy scattering of hazelnuts lent welcome crunch to the mix, and the three small hemispheres of aged goat cheese provided a surprisingly pungent cheesy funk to the mixture. This is a good salad, but it's strong-- the flavors are all assertive, so if you're looking for a mild start to your meal, consider yourself warned.

Buried beets

One of the two evenings, I stayed for dessert. They have some interesting dessert options, including a sticky toffee pudding (which you don't see all that often), but I was looking for something light. One special request later (kindly obliged by both my waiter and the kitchen), and I had a trio of their specialty ice creams. A scoop of gianduja gelato was smooth and hazelnutty; a boule of creme fraiche ice cream was surprisingly tangy and bold; and the orb of coconut sorbet had the appealing shatter-y texture of good sorbet, along with a tantalizing tropical flavor. And the nut cookie providing the garnish added some welcome heft to the dish.

Smooth, creamy, and neutral

I love Proof. It's the kind of place that makes me want to own a wine bar someday, someplace that is cozy and welcoming (even to a solo diner), takes pride in its food, and offers a diverse selection of wines that allow people to try something different without laying out too much cash. Last year, Proof earned four Offset Spatulas from me, and this year it effortlessly retains that rating. You can bet that next time I'm in the area, I'll be back.

Proof
775 G Street NW
202-737-7663

Quick WCC update: I'm on my way...

At this point, you may be asking yourself, "How is Janine doing on her Wine Century Club quest?" Well thanks for asking-- that's a great question. I'm happy to report that I've been doing quite well! As of this writing, I'm 61 wines in, well ahead of the pace required to finish up 100 varietals by July 6, 2011.

Now, here's the challenge: While I've been diligent in sampling off-beat wines and not ticking off all the "easy" grapes first, the next 39 will certainly be more challenging to find, especially since I tend to order wine by the glass rather than the bottle. So, dear readers, I ask for your recommendations. If you know any places in Manhattan, either restaurants or bars, that have unusually extensive wine by the glass menus or tend to offer offbeat wine varietals-- I've found that Spanish and Greek places are especially good for that-- please email me at lifewithfoodanddrink@gmail.com and let me know! You will earn my undying appreciation as well as a toast in your honor.

Yours in wine,

Janine

Bin 36: My wine bar away from home

Last week, I was in Chicago for a work conference. Upon the recommendation of the hotel's concierge, I ventured out of our conference-center surroundings and made it up to Bin 36 twice during my stay. And let me say-- if I lived in Chicago, Bin 36 would be one of my most-visited, regular spots.

It's a huge, cavernous, airy space, filled with tables laden with cheese boards and happy people drinking wine. As a huge bonus to my wine century quest, they offer half-glasses of wine, so you can try lots of different types of wine as you nibble on some delicious food. Over the course of my two visits there, I tried a Sauvignon blanc/Semillon/Muscadelle blend, a Grenache blanc/Marsanne/Rousanne blend, a Cortese/Gavi blend, and a delightful sparkling rose. It was great to get so many unusual wine options on one by-the-glass list.

Wines with explanation cards

Sparkling rose!

But what about the food? They offer small, wine-friendly bites with a huge selection of cheese. My first time there, I started with the Bin 36 Market Salad, with organic greens, dates, pistachios, pecorino cheese, and honey-champagne vinaigrette. It was incredibly fresh and light and tasty, each ingredient zinging against the mouthwatering wine.

YUM!

Afterwards, I was still a bit hungry, so I ordered a dish of olives. This $5 starter was a veritable trough of olives, all mixed with thyme, anise, garlic, and orange zest. This was salty and tender and spicy all at once. And did I mention it was an enormous portion?

More olives than could be consumed by one table

To cap off the meal, I ordered a dish of house-made ice creams. There was chocolate and pistachio and a honey-rum (I think) concoction-- three tiny scoops. Surprisingly, I liked the pistachio best; I tend not to like pistachio-flavored desserts, but this ice cream had some good texture and some extra creaminess from the nuts.

Tiny ice cream boules

On my next visit, I ordered the endive, watercress, and pear salad, with goat cheese rather than blue cheese. This was another fresh, tasty, flavorful mixture, all capped off with a handful of roasted spiced seeds (I think they were pumpkin seeds). Unfortunately, it seemed that the chef had grabbed the bottom handful of the seed bin, so along with the seeds themselves was a handful of almost pure-salt spice dust. The bites that were laden with dust were chokingly salty, which made parts of the salad almost inedible. Other than that, though, this was another memorable concoction.

Minus the nuts... delish

I cannot recommend Bin 36 highly enough-- it's a friendly, welcoming place for some great wine and some good food. Next time I'm in Chicago, you can bet I'll be back.

Bin 36
336 North Dearborn, Chicago, IL
312-755-9463